Harry Potter and the Explosive Solution
by Solus Tal'echoy
Summary: Ed and Kimblee are sent to teach alchemy at Hogwarts, but Kimblee has a special mission. Mangaverse, OotP, no yaoi. Sorry fangirls, I'd love to do it, but Ed would kill Kimblee if I tried. Rated T for Ed's potty mouth and Kimblee's, well, being Kimblee. UP FOR ADOPTION.
1. Chapter 1

_**A/N: **I figured I'd do a crossover, so I decided that to do something different, I'd have Kimblee be a main character. I'll rarely have Ed's POV, since I don't write angst all that well and "Edward's Experiences in Hogwarts" has been written a hundred times. Also, I'm not going to copy the book, since a) it's been done to death b) I don't feel like digging out my copy and c) I'm about to break Rowling's canon into little pieces. What's the point of sticking Kimblee into a different sandbox if he doesn't blow it up?_

_Mangaverse for FMA (show of hands, who can see anime!Kimblee as a teacher? I didn't think so) and Order of the Phoenix for HP, since I desperately want to see how Kimblee handles Umbridge._

_Enjoy._

* * *

><p>"Rise and shine, Kimblee."<p>

Kimblee popped the Philosopher's Stone into his mouth and swallowed it as the jailor opened the door to his cell. "Yer bein' released," the jailor said, looking none too happy about it.

* * *

><p>Stepping out into the bright sunlight, Kimblee looked around the nearly deserted street. A car beeped and the driver waved at him to get in. As he did so, the driver, a military man with short blonde hair, turned into the grinning gender-confused palm tree he was so familiar with."Long time no see, Red Lotus."<p>

"Envy, I assume I have you and your group to thank for my release?"

Changing back to the blonde, Envy started driving. "Yeah, Wrath wants you for a special job, since he doesn't trust the Flame Colonel with involves the Fullmetal pipsqueak, Edward Elric. You heard of him?"

"Some stories I overheard from some particularly talkative guards, not much else. He's the one who got his state certification when he was only twelve, right?"

"Exactly," Envy said, "We're sending him out of Amestris to keep away from Scar, but we need someone to watch him so he doesn't run off. Think you can handle it?"

Kimblee grinned. "Of course."

Envy held up a red stone, "A little toy for you. Consider it an upgrade. And here's the file for your assignment. Wrath will explain it more in depth later."

Kimblee skimmed over it and frowned when he saw his destination. "I'm going where now?"

* * *

><p>"Edward Elric!"<p>

Edward groaned and turned. It was Major Armstrong, in all his pink-sparkling glory. "Yeah, what is it Major?"

"Brother! You should be nicer!" chastised Alphonse.

"Edward Elric, I've been ordered to tell you to report to the Fuhrer's office."

"Why, what for?" Edward asked.

"I cannot say, other than that it involves a mission and that Alphonse will not be coming with."

"What! Why the hell not?"

"I believe the Fuhrer said something about Alphonse being too conspicuous." He picked Alphonse up and started walking down the hall, "Come Alphonse Elric! We shall head to Risembool!"

"What the hell are you doing with my brother you muscle-bound nutjob!"

"You shouldn't keep the Fuhrer waiting, Edward," said Armstrong, still sparkling.

"Just go, brother, I'll be fine," said Al.

Muttering profanities under his breath, Ed made his way to Fuhrer Bradley's office.

* * *

><p>Bradley looked up as Edward stepped into the room. "Ah, Edward, take a seat, please." As Ed did so, Bradley motioned to the other man in the room. "I don't believe you've met Major Solf J. Kimblee, the Red Lotus , this is Edward Elric, the Fullmetal Alchemist."<p>

Kimblee raised an eyebrow at that, and Ed braced himself for a comment about his height, but Kimblee simply said, "I see the stories weren't exaggerated. It's a pleasure."

Bradley pulled out a file and handed it to Ed. "A school in another country is requesting alchemy teachers, and as a gesture of good faith, I am sending you two."

"Teachers?" Ed asked incredulously, "You expect me to teach a bunch snotty brats alchemy? And besides," he shot a glare at Kimblee, "I thought he was a psycho and supposed to be locked. Didn't he kill a bunch of officers in Ishval?"

"Extenuating circumstances," said Kimblee.

Ed rolled his eyes. "Uh-huh, sure," he said, perusing the file. He blinked at the location. "You;'re shitting me, right? 'Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry?' There's no such thing as magic!"

"There obviously is, or there wouldn't be a school for it," said Kimblee thoughtfully. Or something like it. Perhaps it was amplified alchemy, he wondered.

Before Ed could snap a smartass reply, Bradley said, "Edward, you ought to go pack, and I'm sure you want to wish to say goodbye to your brother. I need to speak to Major Kimblee in private. Oh, and Edward," he said, as Ed had the door half open."I had several sets of uniforms made up in your size. I expect you to wear them. You and Kimblee will be representing Amestris while you're there." Ed left, grumbling.

When the door had closed behind Ed, Bradley interlaced his fingers and looked across his desk at Kimblee, who was wearing his ever present soft smirk. "This teaching position is not your only assignment in England, Kimblee."

Kimblee nodded, "Envy told me as much. So I'm to keep him out of trouble?"

"That's your most important task. He is too valuable of an asset to myself and the other homunculi to lose to Scar."

Kimblee closed his eyes thoughtfully. "If all you wanted was Elric's protection, then sending him out of Amestris should be enough. From what I've heard of him, he shouldn't need a bodyguard if Scar isn't around. So..." He opened his eyes, "What other assignment have I been given which I'm not supposed to tell Elric about?"

Bradley gave him an appraising look with his uncovered eye before pulling out another file. "According to their 'Ministry of Magic'" Kimblee snickered at that, "a dangerous wizard was killed fifteen years ago. Others are saying that he was never dead, and furthermore, that he's back. You are to investigate the truth of these rumours. This you may tell Fullmetal. What you may not tell tell him is this: if the rumours are true, get close to this 'Lord Voldemort' somehow and ascertain if he can be useful to us. If not, I give you full permission to use your... talents... to dispose of him."

Kimblee grinned, a maniacal look in his eyes. "It would be my pleasure."

* * *

><p><strong><em>AN: _**_Reviews are always loved. I'll even takes flames, since it's too damn cold by the computer. Review and I'll give you a virtual chocolate frog!_


	2. Chapter 2

**_A/N:_**_ I was debating back and forth over whether to give Kimblee and Edward German accents. On the one hand, it's established in the anime that Amestris is a parallel to Germany. On the other hand, I'm going by mangaverse, where this isn't established. But back to the first hand, who cares? Kimblee would sound sexy with a German accent._

_Oh, I forgot the disclaimer last chapter, but just pretend it's there: I no own, you no sue._

* * *

><p>Harry walked down the aisle, looking in vain for an empty compartment, Ron and Hermione having already left for the prefect's car. He opened a compartment containing two people in blue military uniforms. "Is it alright if I sit here?Everywhere else is full."<p>

"Sure, go ahead, vhy should I care?" said the younger of the pair. He didn't look very happy, and he had an odd accent.

Harry sat down. "I'm Harry. Are you a new first year?"

"WHO ARE YOU CALLING SMALLER T'AN AN ELEVEN-YEAR-OLD!"

The older man, whom Harry had taken to be sleeping, said, "he is not a first year, he is a professor," with the same accent. He held out his hand and Harry noticed a strange design tattooed on his palm. "I am Major Solf J. Kimblee, and t'is is Major Edvard Elric. Ve are t'e new alchemy professors."

Harry shook his hand nervously, thinking that he looked like a younger, less greasy Snape. The blonde one, Elric, just grunted by way of greeting.

"Alchemy?" said Harry, "Like turning lead into gold?"

"There you are, Potter." Before Harry's question could be answered, the compartment door opened to reveal Malfoy, flanked by his two goons. "I see Weasley and Granger have abandoned you. How does it feel when the only person who will sit with you is a runty first year?"

"Damn it, I am not short!"

Harry then saw Elric do something interesting. He clapped his hands together and slammed them on the floor. A metal fist emerged to hit Malfoy right between the legs. Malfoy let out a squeak and went white. As Crabbe and Goyle carried him away, Elric hopped back on his seat, laughing. "To answer your qvestion, Harry, t'at vas alchemy. Any idiot can turn lead into gold. Now vhere is dhis snack cart I heard about?"

Ron and Hermione came into the compartment, Ron almost bouncing. "I just saw Malfoy, he couldn't even walk! Er, why is there a fist sticking out of the ground?"

Harry and Kimblee both looked at Elric, who was feigning sleep. Kimblee sighed and pulled out a piece of chalk, sketching a circular design around the fist. It sank back into the floor with a flash of blue sparks.

Ron and Hermione stared at the floor. "Wicked!" said Ron.

"You must be the new alchemy teacher! said Hermione. She stuck out her hand to shake. "I'm Hermione Granger, I'll be in your class this term, fifth year Gryffindor."

Kimblee shook her hand and smiled at her. "Major Solf J. Kimblee, t'e Red Lotus Alchemist. It is a pleasure to meet you, _Fräulein_ Granger, I look forward to t'e class."

Hermione blushed slightly; Ron scowled.

"And I am not t'e only alchemy professor. Major Elric here is too."

Ron shot a confused look at Elric. "The midget?"

"WHO ARE YOU CALLING SO TINY YOU NEED A MICROSCOPE TO SEE?"

"Bloody hell, I didn't say all that!" said Ron, taking a step back from the irate professor.

"You vere t'inking it, Carrot-top."

"So you're an alchemist too?" said Hermione eagerly, turning to Elric.

"_Ja_, you may have heard of me, t'e Fullmetal Alchemist."

The name didn't ring any bells to Harry, but Hermione nodded enthusiastically. Before she could start talking about whatever book she had read, Ron cut in. "When you say Major, do you mean like in the military?"

"_Ja_," said Elric, "T'ough it is not like Kimblee has vorn his uniform in about ten years."

Before anyone could ask what he meant by this, the food trolley arrived, and Elric halted all conversation to buy and eat almost anything on it, much to Kimblee's amusement.

* * *

><p>Kimblee and Edward were seated with the other teachers in the Great Hall. Kimblee took stock of his fellow professors while the new students were being 'sorted' (by a ragged hat which Edward seemed to take great interest in). The headmaster was a very old man with a very long white beard, and at first glance seemed nonthreatening. Then again, Kimblee reasoned, at first glance he himself seemed like a perfectly normal and well adjusted member of society. Best not to judge by appearances.<p>

Sticking out like a sore thumb was a toad-like woman wearing a horrifying shade of pink. Kimblee could already tell that this would be an annoying one; form their behaviour, it seemed as if the rest of the staff shared that assessment.

He made a mental note to watch the one in black with the greasy hair. He had been casting irritated looks at Edward, as if he could not understand for the life of him why such a young boy was seated there. Kimblee's job after all was to keep the young alchemist out of trouble. If Edward pissed off a wizard and got himself turned into a toad, it was back into jail for him. That prospect was rather... unpleasant.

Speaking of unpleasantness, once dinner had appeared suddenly on the plates (even he was startled at that) the toad woman (what was her name again? Umbridge, that was it) had apparently decided to make polite conversation with him.

"So, Professor Kimblee, I understand you're a military man, yes?"asked Umbridge.

Kimblee wasn't sure where she was going with this. "_Ja_, a Major, vhy?"

"Well I was wondering what your duties were. I'm not very familiar with formal militaries, as we don't have much need for them here in the wizarding world."

Was that condescension he heard in her voice? Oh, he would repay her for that, once the opportunity arose. "My duties are vhatever my Fuhrer orders. I am t'e Red Lotus Alchemist, von of t'e State Alchemists who produced such striking results in the Ishval Extermination." That generally served as a good escape from a conversation. He had essentially just said '_I committed genocide and got away with it_.'

But Umbridge just smiled, which honestly just made her more unpleasant looking. "Well, it's certainly refreshing to find someone so committed to their work. If you were a wizard, I'm sure you could've gotten a very prestigious job."

Again with the condescending tone. Kimblee's hands twitched; He really, really wanted to demonstrate why 'normal' people were rightly wary of him. And what the hell? Even if this woman knew nothing of Ishval, was the word 'extermination' not perfectly clear? Luckily she seemed to have turned her attention to Edward. "And what of your young friend here? Surely he's not also a soldier?"

Edward spared enough attention from his dinner to glare at Umbridge. "I am vearing t'e same uniform as _Herr Verrückt_ here, vat did you t'ink I vas, a street performer?"

Umbridge sniffed haughtily at that, but luckily the headmaster called for silence before Kimblee had to be inflicted with her voice again. Or so he thought, since no sooner had Dumbledore began speaking before Umbridge interrupted, clearly to make a speech of her own. As she began to baby-talk the hall, Kimblee looked desperately for a way to stop the flow of verbal shit. Discreetly joining the transmutation circles on his hands, he turned his fork into an explosive with the force of a strong firecracker and kicked it away from the table.

Three... Two... One... *BANG*

Umbridge jumped nearly a foot in the air, causing the hall to erupt in laughter. More importantly, she was flustered, which Dumbledore took advantage of to say, somehow projecting his voice over the noise, "Why, look at the time! Prefects, kindly escort your houses to their dormitories. Classes start tomorrow and a good night's sleep is vital. Pip pip!"

Edward turned to Kimblee. "I'm not going on record as having a thanked a psycho like you," he said in Amestrian, "but consider that little stunt appreciated."

* * *

><p><strong><em>AN:_**_ no giant booms yet, but they'll come, never fear! I may get Alphonse back in here again later. Reviews please!_


	3. Chapter 3

_** A/N:** Yay, third chapter! _

_This chapter took longer to post than chapter 2 because when I posted chapter 1, I was already partially done with with chapter 2. The wait between chapters will generally be a few days, since I also have homework to do (I know, homework in the summer, sucks doesn't it? That's what I get for going to college two years early)._

_You know, as much as love Kimblee, he freaks me out sometimes. Like when he gets nostalgic about Ishval._

_Discalimer: I no own, you no sue.  
><em>

* * *

><p>Edward was right. This place was <em>insane<em>. On his way to the Owlry to deliver a report to Fuhrer Bradley, he had been greeted by no less than seventeen paintings and six ghosts, one of whom had accosted him in the bathroom. Oh, sure, he knew that soul-binding was technically possible, but to canvas? Or thin air? That was stretching it. One thing was for sure, the Fullmetal Alchemist's armored younger brother wouldn't stick out nearly as much as Bradley had predicted.

A hand came down on his shoulder and he whirled around, hands an inch apart, ready to clap-

Oh. It was only Trelawney. But she looked odd (well, more odd) and her eyes were focused on him without really looking _at_ him. _"The Dark Lord shall swallow him whole,"_ she said, voice rasping unnaturally, _"And the light shall push away the darkness. But neither can extinguish the other, for the red road knows no mortal destination."_ She blinked, eyes returning to normal. "I'm sorry, dearie, I must have dozed off. Did you say something?"

Well that was interesting. "_Nein_, not'ing. I should go, I have to deliver a letter before my first class."

"Ah, yes, of course, I knew that. First class of the year, I shall have to set out extra teacups, excuse me..." she shuffled off, muttering about tea leaves.

"Her third prophecy already, I really ought to get around to giving her that pay rise."

Kimblee spun around to see the headmaster standing behind him When had he gotten there? He mentally kicked himself; He was out of shape. If this were Ishval he would be dead. "I have a sinking feeling t'at t'is vill not be t'e last time you sneak up on me, _Herr_ Dumbledore."

Dumbledore shrugged. "That would depend entirely on you, Solf. How often are you going to be present when something interesting happens?" He gestured down the hall, in the direction that Kimblee had been heading. "Walk with me."

Kimblee obliged. "So t'at vas a prophecy? It sounded more like a riddle to me." Kimblee dislike riddles. They got in the way so often, especially when his curiosity demanded that he found the answer when he had better things to do.

"I suppose that wouldn't be totally inaccurate. Prophecies are rather similar to riddles if you think about it. And it's not surprising that that her prophecies have all involved Lord Voldemort. Tell me, what do you know about him?"

"Only t'at he is supposed to be dead. And t'at he has horrible taste in titles." Honestly, 'Voldemort?' He would stick with 'Red Lotus' any day.

"He's not dead," said Dumbledore sharply, "he never was. And he has returned. Understand that Voldemort is a grave threat to all of us, including your people. The Minister may have chosen to ignore the danger, but I fear there will be war."

War? Kimblee doubted that anyone here knew what war really was. He couldn't help himself, he laughed, startling the headmaster. "Ah, Headmaster, do not be t'rowing around vords t'at you do not know t'e meaning of. Dhere are t'ings in t'is vorld dhat vould make your 'Voldemort' seem like a _kleinen lästigen Hund_." He would know; He was working for them, and never had he had such an appreciative boss.

He took his leave of the professor and continued to the Owlry alone, now quite cheerful. The conversation had brought back fond memories of Ishval. Now that was war. Chaos, sheer glorious chaos, and his beautiful art etching eternal crests of blood through the desert. Yes, he was in a good mood, a very good mood indeed.

* * *

><p>The first class of the day was a group of third years, and Kimblee had taken a seat out of the way. They had already agreed to split up the classes: he would take the fourth and fifth years, and Edward would take the third, sixth and seventh years. Hence, why Kimblee was sitting in a corner, watching the thirteen-year-old students file in noisily. Edward was currently sitting at the front desk, reading the textbook whilst shaking his head in exasperation, and Kimblee found himself agreeing with him wholeheartedly. He had given it a brief read-over and it was clear that the author hadn't the slightest idea what he was talking about.<p>

"Qviet!" Edward yelled, once the students had seated themselves. "Put avay your vands, you vill not be needing dhem. I am Professor Elric. You may also call me 'Major Elric' or 'sir.' Now t'en," he held up the idiotic textbook, "Your textbooks. I do not vish to see dhem out in class. In fact, do not even bot'er to read dhem. Everyt'ing in here is bullshit, and if I hear someone qvoting it, I vill take off points. Is dhat clear?"

There was a general murmur of consent. Kimblee smirked and continued doodling equations. He'd been toying with new circle designs to give him more precise control over his explosions, and had been thinking of finding a deserted area to try them out...

* * *

><p>Harry, Ron and Hermione were eating lunch in the Great Hall when Ginny came over to sit next to them. "You lot have Alchemy after lunch, right? Have any of you cracked open the textbook?"<p>

Harry and Ron shook their heads, while Hermione said, "Of course, I already read the whole thing, it's fascinating!"

Ginny grinned, "Well, I'm sorry to say, Hermione, but Harry and Ron are ahead you in the class already. Forget everything you read in that book, none of it's accurate according to Professor Kimblee. He even blew up a copy of it in front of us, said that was a better example than anything in the textbook."

Hermione looked scandalized at such treatment of a book. Ron started laughing. "I think I like this bloke Kimblee already! I thought he was going to be a total prat!"

"Remember there are two professors," reminded Harry.

Ginny shook her head. "Only Professor Kimblee was there, I didn't see the short one there."

(Somewhere in the library: "I think someone just called me a pipsqueak," muttered Edward.)

"They're probably dividing the classes," said Hermione, "So we might have Professor Kimblee, or we might have Professor Elric."

"So anyway, how was Umbridge?" asked Ginny, "Was she still bitter about interrupted during the feast? I'll bet you anything Fred and George did that and not talking."

"Why Ginny,"

"We would never have thought..."

"...That you would be one..."

"...To speak ill..."

"...Of your own family!" Fred and George had suddenly appeared next to them, wearing expressions that were a mix of amusement and indignation. "We'll have you know.."

"...That we two innocent souls..."

"...Had absolutely nothing to do with it."

Ron snorted. "Right, sure you didn't."

"Trickster's honor, mate," said Fred, "That wasn't one of our firecrackers. But..."

"...We did see a fork blow up," said George, "A fork which had seemed to have been kicked to the middle of the floor..."

"...From the staff table," finished Fred.

"You think one of the teachers charmed a fork to explode?" asked Harry incredulously.

"Well, Professor Kimblee was talking to Umbridge during the feast," said Hermione, "And he didn't look like he was very happy about it."

Now it was Ron's turn to look incredulous. "Hermione, were you staring at him the whole feast? First Lockhart, then Krum..."

"Her and half the girls in the hall, mate," said George.

"The other half of them were staring at Elric," said Fred. "Some of the blokes too," he added thoughtfully.

Ron groaned. "I didn't need to hear that."

"Back to my first question," said Ginny, "How was Umbridge?"

"Got detention," Harry muttered.

At that point the bell rang for afternoon classes. The golden trio headed to the alchemy class, Ron and Harry hoping desperately that Ginny hadn't been pulling their legs about the textbook, Hermione hoping that she was. All of the students were gossiping loudly as they entered the room and were seated. That is, until they heard a loud *BANG* and were showered with gravel, at which point they were utterly silent. Harry saw Kimblee holding a stone in his hand, and several more on his desk.

"Vill anot'er demonstration be reqvired? No? _Gut_." After carefully calling role, he held up a textbook. "Some of you may have been told by t'e ot'er classes dhat ve vill not be using t'ese. T'ey are correct. T'e 'alchemy' described in t'is book is not t'e alchemy ve are teaching." He placed the book on the desk. "I feel it is only fair to varn you dhat Professor Elric vill take avay house points from anyvon he hears calling alchemy 'magic.'"

Hermione raised her hand. "Professor, what exactly is Alchemy, if it's not magic?"

"Dhat depends entirely upon its use. It is a science, yes, but..." he started to reach for another rock, then appeared to reconsider, and instead sketched something on the table, touching a finger to it. Out of the wood formed a sculpture resembling twisting roots. "...It is also an art, von dhat must be practiced." He drew a perfect circle on the board. "Alchemy is, vit' a few exceptions, impossible vit'out a circle, and an array drawn over it."

"This is pointless," Harry heard Malfoy sneer, "We could just wave our wands and make this stuff happen without bothering with some stupid circle."

Kimblee clapped his hands together, and Harry saw the designs on them glow. He picked up a rock from his desk and tossed it in Malfoy's direction. The rock exploded over Malfoy's head, causing him to let out an undignified yelp. Kimblee held p his hands, letting everyone see the arrays tattooed on them. "Vands can be dropped, or broken. T'ese cannot. And tventy points from Slyt'erin for disrespect. Now, who knows vhat Equivalent Exchange is?"

Smirking at Malfoy's telling off, and satisfied that Professor Kimblee would not be another Snape, Harry paid close attention to the rest of the lesson.

* * *

><p><em><strong>AN:** These German accents are really starting to piss off my spellchecker. I'm really not sure if I'll bring in Alphonse. Maybe I will, but since Kimblee's the main character of this story rather than Edward, I likely wouldn't have to write too much for him anyway, so I'm not sure if there's that much point. I'm definitely not bringing Winry because she annoys the hell out of me, plus I'm a RoyEd fangirl. Speaking of which, Roy might show up, I'm not quite sure how I'm going to do Ed's assessment fight, whether it will be against Roy or Kimblee. Guess we'll just have to see!_

__kleinen lästigen Hund_: small annoying dog  
><em>

_Oh, and if my German is off, let me know, since I don't speak the language and I don't know anyone who does, so all I have for translation is Google Translate.  
><em>


	4. Chapter 4

_** A/N: **Thank you to everyone who has reviewed so far! And yes, when I say no yaoi, I mean **no yaoi**_. I will not be having any pairings in this fic. Especially because Kimblee is the main character and I really doubt that he even can fall in love with someone since he's , you know, **a psychopath**. So, no pairings, whatsoever. __

_Disclaimer: I no own, you no sue.**  
><strong>_

* * *

><p>In the Hog's Head pub, Harry stared nervously at the large number of students gathered. So were all the other patrons, for that matter.<p>

"Get on with it, you brought us all here for a reason didn't you?" said a bored-sounding Hufflepuff.

"Shut up and let the man talk," said Fred, pulling out a wicked-looking rod from a bag.

"Because we just bought these from Zonko's..." said George.

"...And we'd like to test them out..."

"...And we're not too picky how or on whom."

Harry cleared his throat. "We're all here, because, well, we need to learn how to fight, and Umbridge isn't going to teach us."

"And you are?" sneered the Hufflepuff.

"Harry's fought You-Know-Who, mate," Ron cut in, Who else is going to?"

"Herr Potter, vhat a surprise to see you here!"

Everyone looked around to see Elric standing by the group.

"I hope your studies are going vell?" he said clapping his hands together. He placed them on the table under the pretense of leaning forward, and words appeared carved into the surface. Everyone leaned forward to read them.

_"Are you idiots trying to get caught? Everyone here is listening in on your little conference, and Umbitch is sure to find out about it. If you are looking for a place to meet for the 'fighting lessons' my classroom is free on weekends. And you could have just asked me."_

"Vell, just know dhat if you need tutoring in your alchemy class, I have much more expertise t'an Kimblee," said Elric, clapping his hands again and erasing the words from the table, leaving it considerably cleaner than it had been. "I vill see you all later, dhen," he said, leaving.

"Well, you all heard the professor," said Hermione hastily, "I'm sure we all have homework to be getting done, and I wouldn''t be surprised if we all needed some extra help in alchemy."

* * *

><p>So, Voldemort was alive, and from the sound of it, he was too wrapped up in himself to be of any use to the Homunculi. Kimblee smiled to himself. This was rather perfect, now he had the rest of the year to infiltrate this little 'Death Eater' club and he could eliminate him and his leisure. But for that he needed information, from someone in or close to them.<p>

And it seemed he was in luck. When he entered his vacant classroom, who should he find but Draco Malfoy, son of a Death Eater, according to the information from Bradley. He was currently looking extremely frustrated. Understandable, since he was being dangled upside down by a large stone hand. "Vhat happened to you?" he asked.

"The runt gave me detention, said I could leave when I got myself down, but he took my wand!"

"I believe he intended for you to use alchemy to free yourself. Practical application is t'e point of the class, after all."

"I know the stupid array, I can't reach anywhere to draw it!"

That was his problem? Then maybe he needed more exercise, these wizards were too soft. He pulled out a piece of chalk and sketched a simple array on the hand. He wondered how exactly Edward managed to do this without a circle, because it seemed very convenient. He grabbed the front of Malfoy's shirt, no sense letting him break his neck, and activated the array. Malfoy's legs dropped to the floor, his top half staying put, held up by Kimblee.

Malfoy got up unsteadily and would have fallen down again had Kimblee not guided him into a chair. "T'e blood has all gone to your head. You vill not be able to valk very steadily, so you may as vell stay here for now." He retrieved a bottle from under the desk along with two glasses. What teenager didn't want to try alcohol without his parent's permission? "Vhiskey? I have been meaning to open t'is, so I vill not tell if you vill not."

* * *

><p>It was rather pathetic really, how much of a lightweight the kid really was. One shot of whiskey and he was singing like a bird, boasting in great detail about everything his father had ever told him about Voldemort. Kimblee was now escorting him (half carrying him, really) back to the Slytherin common room.<p>

Malfoy stopped him in front of a section of wall and said "Parseltongue." The wall slid open.

When they had entered, a girl rushed over to them. "Oh, Draco, all you all right?"

"'M fine," slurred Malfoy as Kimblee deposited him on a couch.

"Oh, Professor Kimblee! Thank you for bringing Draco back, I was so worried!"

Oh, lovely, hormonal teenage girls. "It vas no trouble, Fräulein," said Kimblee slipping on the gentleman pose. It was an easy mask to wear, just like all his others. A part to play, and Kimblee was a gifted actor. He gave a polite bow, and the girl giggled.

"Quit ogling the professor, Pansy," said a dark-skinned boy from the couch opposite Malfoy, "It's rather disturbing."

Pansy blushed furiously. "Shut it, Blaise."

Kimblee pulled a letter out from inside his jacket. He had written it during his 'conversation' with Malfoy. "Fräulein, I vould be forever graeful if you vere to have Draco send t'is to his fat'er, vonce he vakes up," said Kimblee, noting Malfoy's snores from the couch.

"Of course, Professor!"

"_Danke_." With another bow, Kimblee left them. Back in the deserted corridor, he chuckled once again at Malfoy's drunken state. Kimblee had downed three shots and wasn't even remotely tipsy. He supposed he had his father to thank for that. Drunkenly determined to do at least one thing right by his son, the man had decided that Solf J. Kimblee was not going to go out into the world, and especially not into the army, without being able to hold his damn liquor.

Suddenly bored, he took a turn towards the double doors leading out to the grounds. He scanned the wide expanse of land, looking for entertainment. There was a gorge, those always made for nice explosions. But it was boring to set one off from the side, and standing in the gorge would be suicidal. He sighed; Turning rocks into firecrackers was such a dreadful waste of his talents; He was getting restless. He went to forest. He'd heard that the deeper regions were quite dangerous, and there was nothing like a life or death struggle to alleviate boredom.

He hadn't gotten very far in when he saw what looked like some kind of chimera. The creatures looked like emaciated horses with leathery skin and wings like bats. He had seen them before, pulling the carriages.

"They won't attack, you know, you can put your hands down." A girl with bright blonde hair whom he recognized from his fourth year class, Luna Lovegood, stepped out from behind a tree. "They're quite gentle, they just have a bad reputation."

"Vhat are t'ey, chimeras?"

"No, they're called thestrals. They pull the carriages, but most people can't see them."

So that was why he got odd looks when he stared at them on the night of the feast. "Vhy is dhat, exactly?"

"They can only be seen by those who have seen death."

Seen death? Indeed, caused quite a bit of it too, he did pride himself on a job well done.

Luna stroked one of the thestrals on the nose. "They're very smart too," she said absentmindedly, "You can tell them where you want to go and they'll understand you."

Really? Kimblee filed that little tidbit away, it sounded useful. Handy if he needed a quick way off the grounds, since he wasn't about to trust his life to a cleaning appliance. He checked his pocketwatch; it was almost dinner, and he was getting hungry. His stomach had gotten used to decent food and was demanding more of it. He would go deeper into the forest later.

* * *

><p><strong><em>AN: _**_Concerning the entrance of more FMA characters, the jury has made her decision._

_Alphonse will not be coming. I'm sorry to anyone who was hoping to see him, but I just don't really see how it will have a point to the story, since, as I've said, Ed is not the main character, Kimblee is. Plus, I don't really trust my ability to write him in character and keep him interesting._

_Roy will be coming for a visit, either next chapter or the one after._

_Reviews please!  
><em>


	5. Chapter 5

**_A/N: _**_Yay for new chapter, and chocolate frogs for the reviewers!_

_My mother seems to find it creepy that I can write from the point of view of a psychopath and keep in character. _

_Disclaimer: I no own, you no sue. I'm just blowing up the sandbox._

* * *

><p><em>Red Lotus,<em>  
><em>Be aware that near the end of the month, during the week of October 31st, Colonel Mustang will be arriving at the school in order to administer the annual assessments for Edward Elric and yourself. This will only be a formality to avert suspicion, since I have no intention of letting either of you out of the military's sight, but for appearance's sake, I would prefer if you were prepared. You and Fullmetal will be fighting, so try not to damage him too badly as he is rather valuable.<em>  
><em>- Fuhrer-President King Bradley<em>

Kimblee frowned when he read the letter. An assessment? They hadn't had those when he joined up. Of course, there wasn't much need for them in Ishval; If you weren't up to snuff, you died, and no skin off the military's teeth. And he'd been in jail since the war, so this would be his first real alchemy test since the initial entrance assessment. A battle assessment, huh? Sounded intriguing. Bradley knew his specialty, so he must have had an immense amount of faith in Edward's abilities.

Speaking of Edward, where in hell was the kid? It was the weekend, so it wasn't as if he'd had to cover for his classes, but his job after all was to keep him out of trouble. The last time Kimblee had seen him was this morning, sitting on his bed staring at his open pocketwatch. Maybe he was out on the grounds, moping about his brother. Kimblee shook his head. He couldn't imagine himself becoming so attached to a person that he would be depressed at their absence, it must have taken an amazing amount of personal strength to deal with. He had seen the affect on soldiers who lost friends in Ishval, and frankly, he was glad such emotional bonds were beyond him. There were advantages to being a psychopath.

* * *

><p>"You're sure these contact galleons will work?" asked Ron. The golden trio were headed down to the alchemy classroom early to prepare for the first DA meeting.<p>

"Of course I'm sure, Ron, stop worrying, honestly!"

"Well, excuse me for not wanting my hand carved up like Harry's!"

Harry found it slightly amusing that it was Hermione who was advocating breaking the rules rather than him or Ron.

"Harry, Hermione, Ron, hi!" Neville came running up to them when they neared the classroom. "I just got here, the others should be coming soon."

"Excellent," said Hermione knocked on the door and opened it. "Professor Elric-oh!"

When they all walked through the door, there was no sign of Elric, only Kimblee, reading something at his desk.

"Er, is Professor Elric here?" asked Hermione hesitantly.

"_Nein_, I do not know vhere he is off to. Vhy?"

"Erm, well, he told us we could come here for some extra lessons," said Harry.

Kimblee raised an eyebrow at that, and Harry knew why. Neville was not in the class. "Let me guess," he said, appearing to be putting two and two together, "Dhis vould be t'e type of lessons dhat _Frau_ Umbridge vould disapprove of, no?"

All four of them gulped.

To their surprise and immense relief, Kimblee smirked and said, "Fine by me, t'en."

"Really?" said Ron

"You are not t'e only vones who dislike her. And besides, I vas never vone to follow obstructive rules."

By this time, most of the other DA members had found their way to the classroom. Harry turned to face them all while Kimblee went to sit by the door, appearing to doodle.

"Well," he started out, "You're all here, so, I think we should start with _expelliarmis_."

* * *

><p>From is seat by the door, Kimblee watched the students attempting to shoot spells at each other. The point seemed to be to disarm the opponent of their wand, a very useful spell if Kimblee's opinion. He was also paying close attention to the corridor outside his classroom. The Umbitch, as Edward was now calling her, had taken to prowling the halls, looking for rulebreakers. And if that newest 'educational decree' was anything to judge by, he was fairly sure that what was going on in his classroom qualified as rulebreaking.<p>

He heard footsteps echoing down the corridor, loud clacking that was unmistakably from Umbridge's ridiculous heels. He strode quickly over to the group. "Vands away," he hissed, "now!" He activated an array that he had drawn earlier and a lump of rock raised out of the floor. He tossed a piece of chalk to Hermione. "Now, Granger, a demonstration, if you vould," he said, as if he had just explained a concept to the assembled group.

As Hermione began to draw a transmutation circle, there was a 'hem, hem' sound and they looked around to see Umbridge standing in the doorway.

"Why, what's all this?" she said in that sickly sweet tone of voice, wearing an expression akin to a frog eyeing a juicy fly.

"Keep going," Kimblee said to Hermione. He turned back to Umbridge. "Tutoring, of course. T'ese students vanted extra help in t'eir alchemy class, and as t'eir teacher, it is my job to provide dhat. I do not do dhese t'ings halfvay."

"All of these students needed extra help? Perhaps you aren't as competent teacher as they require, after all, you are not a ministry-trained educational expert."

Kimblee's hands twitched toward each other. He was going to enjoy killing her. But not yet, he still had a job to do, he couldn't blow her up in the middle of the school. But the gentleman act wasn't going to cut it here. "No, I am not a 'ministry-trained educator,' I am a military-trained, state-certified alchemy expert, as is Elric. Bot' of us can tell you t'at sitting in a classroom for a mere five hours a veek does not qvalify as learning. Dhere is no revard vit'out risk." He turned back to the students. "Ve can continue dhis some ot'er time." They left quickly, eager to escape the rising tension in the room as fast as possible. Umbridge was still standing there.

"You are still in my classroom, _Frau_ Umbridge." He said, without turning around to look at her.

"Where is Professor Elric?"

"I have no idea, vhy ask me?"

"I was under the impression that you were responsible for him, as he is still a child."

Kimblee laughed at that absurd statement. "Vell t'en, you vere under t'e vrong impression." He held up his pocketwatch for Umbridge to see. "This is vhat identifies a State Alchemist. Elric has vone as vell. T'e moment he accepted t'is vatch of his own free vill, he lost all right to call himself a child or be treated as vone. My 'responsibility' over him is only to keep him alive; Fuhrer Bradley did not send me to babysit. Now kindly remove yourself from t'is classroom."

Umbridge drew herself up in a (laughable) attempt to look stern and intimidating, which vaguely reminded Kimblee of a toad puffing itself up. "I am a member of the Ministry of Magic, and I will not be spoken to that way!"

Kimblee just sighed, clapped his hands together, and blew up a section of the floor, noting with some satisfaction that the runes he added to his circles increased his precision remarkably. Umbridge shrieked shrilly and scurried out, much to Kimblee's immense amusement. Though the explosion would have had a much more satisfying overall sound without the hag's annoying voice.

* * *

><p>"That was way too close!" said Ron, once they were safely back in Gryffindor Tower.<p>

"But," said George, popping out of nowhere with Fred, causing the trio to jump.

"We reckon it won't be that close again," said Fred.

"Bloody hell! How do you do that without apparating?"

"Trade secret, little brother," said Fred

"What do you mean, it won't be that close again?" asked Harry.

"Umbridge stayed behind..."

"...And managed to piss off Kimblee..."

"...Who scared the living daylights out of her..."

"...By blowing up the floor!"

This news caused Ron and Harry to roll around on the floor, roaring with laughter. "That's brilliant!' said Ron.

"He could've gotten in such trouble for that!" said Hermione

"There you are, I was starting to wonder where the old Hermione was hiding," laughed Ron.

There was a tapping noise by at the window and Harry hurried over. "Hedwig!" He let her in and took the letter she held out to him. She paused for long enough to nibble his finger affectionately before taking off again, presumably to the Owlry.

"Who's it from?" asked Hermione.

"Snuffles, I asked him what he knew about Elric and Kimblee."

_Harry_  
><em>I had Arthur Weasley make some discreet inquiries. Combined with what I'd already heard, here's what he found out: Edward Elric, the Fullmetal Alchemist, is possibly the most famous alchemist in Amestris. He's a prodigy, got his commission four years ago when he was only twelve years old. That's common knowledge, what's less known is that he's missing his arm and his leg, though how exactly he lost them is a state-protected secret. He's generally known to be the only state alchemist who does anything for the civilian populace. My opinion? I think you can trust him.<em>  
><em>As for the other professor, well, the story's not so pretty. Solf J. Kimblee, the Red Lotus Alchemist was one of the alchemists commissioned to commit genocide for the state. He's an explosions expert, and reportedly enjoyed his job. He was imprisoned for blowing up his superiors. Apparently when they arrested him, he was laughing like a maniac. I don't know why he's out of jail, I don't what the Amestrian leader was thinking when he released him, and I don't know what Dumbledore was thinking when he let him teach, but keep your guard up. The man's a psychopath, and he might just end up working for Voldemort.<em>  
><em>-Snuffles<em>

Ron said a very colorful word.

* * *

><p><strong><em>AN: _**_A very colorful word indeed. Perhaps it was a Wizard Swear?_

_And three cheers for Kimblee scaring the piss out of Umbitch!_

_Next chapter: Assessment Day!_


	6. Omake

_**A/N:** Don't worry, I'm not dead! Although if I don't finish all of my homework by the end of next week, **that could change.** This is not chapter 6. Chapter 6 will be delayed, the reasons being that 1) I'm having trouble with it and 2) my Dad is a little pissed off at me, and since he used to blow things up and kill people for a living, I don't particularly want to test his wrath. So it might be another week, give or take, depending on how quickly I can do twenty ridiculously weird math problems (I'm talking **really **ridiculous here). _

_So for now, have an omake. It's not really in chronological order with the rest of the story, it's just a funny moment I thought of._

* * *

><p>Kimblee looked up from his book as Edward kicked open the door to their shared officebedroom. He noted the pink confetti in the teenager's hair. "Valentine's Day not to your taste?"

Edward slammed the door shut, locked it, then sealed it with alchemy for good measure. "I didn't think it was possible, but there is something more deranged than you."

Kimblee wasn't quite sure he believed that. "Do tell."

Edward slumped onto his bed. "Fangirls," he groaned.

Kimblee chuckled. "You're famous enough that I heard stories in solitary confinement, what did you expect? You can handle the military, but you can't handle some female attention?"

"I don't see _you_ volunteering to go out there," Edward snapped, "And it's worse than that. They're _shipping us_."

Kimblee was about to chuckle again, then he realized what Edward had just said. "That _is_ disturbing."

* * *

><p><em><strong>AN: **You know how to get me to finish my homework faster. It involves clicking a little a certain little button right down here...  
><em>

l  
>l<br>V


	7. Chapter 6

**_A/N: _**_And it's here, finally! Also, a round of applause and a massive group hug for VivaNewVegas and his/her (sorry, I really don't know) Dad for their homework help which made this chappie possible._

_Disclaimer: You should know this by now._

* * *

><p><em>3 weeks later<em>

"Harry, I can't believe you still haven't spoken to Dumbledore!" said Hermione

"How am I supposed to do that, Hermione? He obviously doesn't want to talk to me. And besides, what am I supposed to tell him about, the weather?"

"About your dream, of course! And Professor Kimblee! And Umbridge's horrid detentions for that matter!"

They were walking back to Gryffindor tower after dinner. Hermione grabbed his shirt and pointed to the landing below them. "Dumbledore's right there, go and talk to him," she said, in a tone which brooked no argument.

"Who's the other bloke with him?" asked Ron.

Currently talking to Dumbledore was a raven-haired man wearing the same uniform as Elric and Kimblee.

"Erm, Professor Dumbledore?" said Harry, "I was wondering if I could talk to you?"

"Ah, Harry, perfect timing!" said Dumbledore, who didn't seem to have heard a word Harry had just said. "I have an urgent matter I must attend to and I was wondering if you and your friends would be so kind as to escort our guest to the alchemy room?"

"Er..."

"Excellent! Colonel, I leave you in their capable hands." And with that, he strode off.

Ron gaped after him. "You weren't kidding, mate, he _is_ avoiding you."

Hermione held out her hand to the Colonel. "I'm Hermione Granger."

The man shook her hand. "Colonel Roy Mustang," he said, with an award-winning smile that caused Hermione to blush lightly and Ron and Harry to roll their eyes. What was it with girls and men in military uniforms?

As they walked down the corridor, Harry noticed that Mustang wore white gloves like Elric, but with alchemical arrays embroidered on them in red. "Are you a state alchemist as well?"

"_Ja_, I am t'e Flame Alchemist. I t'ink you know t'e Fullmetal Alchemist, Edvard Elric?"

"Yeah, but he's not our professor," said Ron, "We've got Kimblee."

A dark look appeared on Mustang's face, and he muttered something under his breath. Harry didn't understand the language, though he did recognize it as the same one Elric tended to rant at Kimblee in, but he was fairly sure it was something impolite. Returning to English, Mustang said, "T'e Fuhrer has a sick sense of efficiency, sending him."

"What do you mean?" asked Harry.

"He has a tvisted sense of reliability, t'at von," said Mustang, as though he had a bad taste in his mouth. "Give him a job, and he vill finish it, give him a problem and he vill solve it... and vit' t'e most explosive solution possible."

"Like in Ishval?' asked Hermione.

Mustang stopped, his hand on the door to the classroom, his face a study in suppressed pain. He gave them a saddened look. "Innocence is fleeting as it is. Enjoy your childhood vhile it lasts, because ot'ers are not so lucky." He closed the door behind him, leaving the golden trio alone in the hall.

"Smooth, Hermione, very smooth," said Ron.

* * *

><p>The quidditch stands were packed the following Saturday, though the match itself had been postponed. They weren't here to see quidditch this week, they were here to see alchemy at work. Umbridge had protested, of course, to Dumbledore ("I'm afraid I don't have any right to interfere with foreign affairs, Dolores.") to Mustang ("T'is is a government procedure, and postponing it vill only give me more papervork.") to Kimblee ( "Ve could alvays perform t'e assessment in your minister's office, vould dhat be preferable?") to Edward ("Fuck off, lady, I am not missing my chance to kick <em>Herr Verrückt<em>'s ass.") to no avail.

Kimblee and Edward were facing each other from twenty feet away. Mustang walked over to Kimblee, grabbed his collar roughly, and hissed in his ear, "I don't know what game Bradley's playing, Kimblee, but if Fullmetal gets hurt, I will make you ash. Is that clear?"

Kimblee smirked and freed his shirt from Mustang's grasp. "Always touching to see officers so protective of their subordinates."

Mustang snarled and strode to edge of the pitch, snapping his fingers. A ball of flame erupted in the space between Kimblee and Edward. "Begin!"

Kimblee and Edward both clapped their hands almost simultaneously, and there was the bone-quaking sound of violently shifting earth, Kimblee blowing a gorge into the previously pristine field and Edward sending a line of spikes towards him. Kimblee spun to the side to avoid them while Edward turned his backwards trajectory into a backflip. The boy was agile, much more agile than Kimblee, and in much better shape for that matter. They were facing each other again, watching for any hint of the other's next move. Kimblee knew that the outcome of this didn't truly matter, but the look in Edward's eye said that he was looking to inflict injury. Kimblee was rather fond of his own skin; he needed to end this. He flung a stone into the air, and Edward ducked at the sudden movement and transmuted a dust cloud. The stone exploded, and Kimblee heard the telltale pinging of gravel against metal, giving away the boy's position. He leapt out of Edward's path and created a shockwave which cleared the dust, just in time to avoid a stone fist punching the empty space where he had been standing a moment ago. Edward was charging forward, his automail arm transmuted into a blade. But he didn't get the chance to strike, because there was suddenly another ball of flame separating them.

"Enough!" Mustang had yelled, hand raised and prepared to snap again. Because Mustang had noticed what Edward, too sure of an easy win, hadn't: Kimblee clapping his hands and taking a stance which would allow him to catch and destroy the metal arm. Not that he would have actually blown up the arm, since he likely wouldn't have been able to pull off the move at all, and even if he did there was too high of a risk of the boy being seriously injured, which would in turn lead to Kimblee being charbroiled; Not exactly something he wanted to experience. No, it had been enough to make Mustang think that would happen. All's well that ends well, after all.

Mustang on the other hand looked as if he would like nothing more than to let Edward slice Kimblee to bits just so he wouldn't have to breathe the same air as him anymore. "This assessment is over, which means I'm no longer needed and I can get out of this frigid country. Hey, Fullmetal!"

"Yeah, what is it, Colonel Bastard?" replied Edward in an annoyed tone of voice.

Colonel Bastard? Edward was lucky he was a prodigy. If Kimblee had shown that kind of attitude to his superiors he'd have gotten court-martialed. Or beaten within an inch of his life if it was his father. Of course, he _had_ been court-martialed, but he hadn't been back-talking his superiors, just making them go boom.

"Don't let the psycho kill you, I've already got enough to deal with."

Edward smirked. "Go home, Colonel, I'm sure the Lieutenant has a stack of paperwork waiting just for you."

Mustang turned to Dumbledore, who had appeared out of nowhere, again. "Should I have t'ese two clean up? I vill varn you, t'ey might just make it vorse," he said, switching back to English for the Headmaster's benefit.

Dumbledore just smiled, that little smile which unnerved Kimblee and reminded him of Bradley for some reason. "No, that's quite alright, I'll put it right sometime later today. But if you'd follow me, I've had your luggage moved to Hogsmeade Station, as you requested..." And they walked away, as were most of the students in the rapidly emptying stands. Potter, Granger, and Weasley had lingered behind, likely to talk to Edward about their illegal magic club. Kimblee wasn't interested in this, as it didn't exactly have much to do with his job here; that first little incident with the first meeting had been unintentional, and he generally tried to make himself scarce at all the other meetings.

Was it just him, or was it getting colder? This country was unnaturally chilly as it was.

He stared at the darkening sky. It looked like it was going to storm tonight. Kimblee always enjoyed thunderstorms; The sounds were similar to bombs going off, and they lulled him to sleep and gave him sweet dreams of Ishval.

Alright, this was ridiculous, the temperature shouldn't be changing this fast. He heard Edward's hiss of pain and looked around at him. He was clutching his shoulder and grimacing. That was when Kimblee noticed the ground: the grass was frosting quickly, too quickly.

The words of some mad poet his mother had made him read suddenly sprung to mind. _Something wicked this way comes_.

* * *

><p><strong><em>AN: _**_ooooooh, cliffhanger! Muhahahahaha! Don't worry though, I won't take so long with the next chapter (famous last words)._


	8. Chapter 7

_**A/N: **I'm sorry I took so long, this chapter was a lot of trouble to work out in my head. It's shorter than I normally write chapters, but I felt that this scene ought to stand on its own. Also, there's something I didn't mention last chapter, and I don't know why. Writing that fight made me realize something: Kimblee **sucks** at fighting. His specialty is perfect for widespread destruction, but it's kinda impractical for a one-on-one duel. It's like going into a fight armed with grenades when your opponent also has grenades... and a sword and a gun and a bazooka and a tank and you get the picture._

_Dislaimer: I don't own, blah blah blah._

* * *

><p>Kimblee was beginning to shiver. The golden trio had their wands out, and Edward was clutching his shoulder. Kimblee looked up in time to see two black-shrouded things flying towards the group, making unearthly rattling noises. One of them made a swooping pass over him.<p>

He heard a voice he had thought to never hear again.

_"Get up, pussy, you call yourself my son?"_

He felt force of a steel-toed boot connecting with his side, and he let out an involuntary gasp of pain. Why was he hearing his voice? That man was dead, definitely dead, there hadn't even been enough left of him to bury.

_"Get up, dammit! Act like a man for once in your life, you worthless fucker!"_

A punch to the gut this time. There was no one on the quidditch pitch close enough to be delivering such blows, but he felt them like they were real. And he wasn't just on the pitch anymore, he was on the floor of his house. He wasn't just a middle-aged man in a uniform, he was a twelve-year-old in a ragged t-shirt and jeans. His father stood far above him, drunk. He was always drunk.

_"You gonna keep sniveling down there like a little schoolgirl? Huh? You gonna keep cowering like a fucking dog?"_

Another blow, to the kidney. Kimblee fell to his knees with a groan. He couldn't do anything to stop the beating.

_"Does that hurt? Is little Miss Princess too fragile to get up and take it?"_

He heard his own whimpering pleads, but they only made his father angrier.

_"You want it to stop? You want me to stop? Then make me stop, dammit! Get up and make me!"_

But he couldn't get up. He was powerless.

Another voice broke through the nightmare, "EXPECTO PATRONUM!" His father was gone, though he could still feel the kicks and punches. He forced himself to stare at his hands, at the arrays tattooed there. He wasn't powerless, those arrays gave him power, he had killed his father, blown him up. He was dead, he was dead, he was dead...

* * *

><p>Harry summoned his patronus, and the stag had chased away the dementors, though not before they had affected the two Amestrian professors. Elric had passed out entirely, much like how Harry had in his third year. Kimblee hadn't passed out, but he had fallen to his knees. That didn't disturb him, what disturbed him was that Kimblee was <em>laughing<em>, laughing like a maniac. Through the hysterics, Harry could hear him repeating, "_Er ist tot, Er ist tot, ich tötete ihn,_" over and over like a mantra.

* * *

><p><strong><em>AN:_**_ I did say that this chapter was shorter. I'll try not to take so long with the next chapter, and it will be longer._

_On a diferent but related note, I'm planning to do another FMAxHP crossover, this one starring Ed and Roy, anime-based, post CoS. However, I'm sick of typing german accents and I distrust google translate, so I'm switching to a different language (more importantly, one that I'm familiar with) for the next story. I'm backwards, I know. In the manga, where there is no connection to Germany, I use the German language, but in the anime, where the connection is established, I go and use some other language. As for what language I'm using, well, I'm not going to tell you. I'll let you guess. Whoever guesses first gets to choose whether I set it in book 4 or book 6 (I'm done with Umbitch). _

_Here's a snippet of the language: **Solus cuyi an bal an cuyi solus. Ibic bal Sosol Dinu'hiib cuyi dem'kitkebi'b t'ad ori'jaonyc kegi'suum'e. **Translation: One is all and all is one. This and Equivalent Exchange are alchemy's two most important laws._


	9. Chapter 8

_**A/N: **18 more days until I move into my college dorm, 18 more days until I move into my college dorm, 18 more days until I move into my college dorm..._

_Even better, I only have one class on Tuesdays. Unfortunately Wednesday is a completely full schedule. Bio, chem, math, an hour for lunch, more chem, more chem, more chem, english, then I'm done for the day at 6:30 pm. Yay college!_

_Let me double check... nope, still don't own FMA or HP._

* * *

><p>After the dementor incident, school was relatively normal. Relatively being the key word here. For the next month and a half, Dumbledore was still avoiding Harry, Umbridge was still a toad, and was still trying to make everyone's lives difficult, Elric was still aggravating Umbridge, and the golden trio were still suspicious of Kimblee.<p>

"Oy, Harry," said Ron at breakfast, "Take a look at Kimblee, he don't look too happy."

Harry looked up at the staff table where Kimblee sat. Usually the man wore a passively charming expression, but not right now. His face was cold and serious, likely something to do with the letter he was currently reading.

"Wonder what's in that letter," said Ron.

"Look at his bird," said Hermione, "He's not using an owl."

"What?" Harry looked again. Indeed, the bird which had presumably delivered the letter, and was now helping itself to Kimblee's breakfast, was black and much smaller than an owl.

"Is that a crow?" asked Ron, "I didn't think you could use anything other than an owl to deliver mail."

"Good thing Trelawney's not here, or she'd have a fit and start predicting his painful death," said Harry. He noticed something else. "That's odd, Umbridge isn't here."

"Are you complaining, mate?" said Ron, "She's probably out trying to harass Elric, it's like she's offended by the idea of a foreign teacher."

"So why isn't she here harassing Kimblee instead hunting all over the school for Elric?"

"Because Kimblee's bloody scary. I mean, so's Elric, but he's more of a loud and bad-tempered scary. Elric may be a nutter, but Kimblee's a... _nutter_, know what I'm saying?"

"You realize you just said nutter twice, don't you?" said Hermione.

"No, I called Elric a nutter, I called Kimblee a _nutter_, there's a difference," retorted Ron.

A barn owl dropped a copy of the Daily Prophet in front of Hermione, forestalling any further argument about verbal italicization. Hermione snatched it up and peered at the front page. "No, surely not..."

"What is it" asked Harry.

Hermione handed over the paper wordlessly.

_**Dolores Jane Umbridge Appointed Hogwarts's First Ever High Inquisitor**_

"That toad!" said Harry and Ron simultaneously.

"And right before break, too," moaned Ron, "How are we supposed to enjoy Christmas with that hanging over us?"

"That reminds me," said Hermione, lowering her voice, "Professor McGonogall told me that Professor Elric will be spending Christmas with us."

"At headquarters?" asked Harry.

"Shh! Yes, she said that Professor Dumbledore said that it was a show of good faith, you know, strengthening international relations and all that."

"Because that worked so well last year," Ron snorted.

"Kimblee's not coming too, is he?" asked Harry warily.

"I asked Professor McGonogall that, and she said no, she said Professor Dumbledore said that Professor Kimblee had other duties to attend to."

"'Other duties?' What's that supposed to mean?" asked Ron incredulously.

"I don't know, she wouldn't say."

* * *

><p>During the space between his fourth and fifth year classes, Kimblee reread Bradley's latest set of orders.<p>

_Red Lotus,_  
><em>Concerning this Umbridge woman: If she interferes with your assignment, you have my authorization to eliminate her. However, before you get too excited, try not to draw too much attention to yourself when you do so. If your reports and the results of Fullmetal's research are accurate, it would be best if you did not cause too much of an international incident.<em>  
><em>That being said, when you eliminate Voldemort, make sure there are witnesses. We still want to send a clear message, so make sure that there are enough survivors that it can't be covered up.<em>  
><em>-Fuhrer-President King Bradley<em>

Kimblee wrote a quick confirmation that he had received the letter and sent it back with the crow. When he had reported that the 'normal' owl mail was being watched, the Fuhrer had given a solution in the form of a much less conspicuous bird, wearing a black harness which would conceal any letters. It was obvious really, crows were everywhere in this country and often roosted around the castle. One more would hardly draw attention, especially when these wizards weren't watching for them.

He looked back over the other letter he had received.

_Major Solf J. Kimblee,_  
><em>Your offer has intrigued my Lord, and he invites you to meet us at the Shrieking Shack near Hogsmeade Village on the twenty-third of December, just after dark.<em>  
><em>Yours Truly, Lucius Malfoy<em>

It had certainly taken him long enough to reply. And Bradley's orders had just made things more complicated.

But before he could give more thought to the situation, his fifth year class started filing into the room. When the seats were filled he looked over the classroom without bothering to check role. They were all here, with the exception of Draco Malfoy, who had dropped the class after being dangled upside down one too many times. Nobody except some of the Slytherins really missed him.

"_Hem, hem_."

Oh, this was not what he needed. He'd seen something in the paper about the toad-woman inspecting classes, but this soon? And _his_ class? He turned to the little pink hag. "Can I help you, Professor?"

"You received the notice of your inspection for today?"

Was that what the horrid pink slip on his desk had been? Kimblee hadn't bothered to read it, the horrible color combination of the paper and writing had threatened to cause a migraine should he give it more than a glance. "_Nein_, I cannot say t'at I did."

Umbridge looked slightly miffed at this. "I assure you, Professor, there should have been an official notice on your desk this morning."

"And I assure _you_ t'at dhere vas not'ing on my desk dhis morning vhich could be described as official-looking."

Umbridge sniffed haughtily and took a seat at the side of the classroom, quill and clipboard at the ready. If she had been expecting to observe an actual lesson she would be disappointed, as Kimblee began handing out a test. He didn't feel like teaching in front of the Umbitch, it was already hard enough to not kill her.

But when he sat back at his desk, she treated this as an invitation to begin interrogating him.

"How long have you served in your military?"

"Is dhis really necessary?"

"Oh, absolutely, I am required to have information on all of our teacher's backgrounds. We wouldn't want a criminal to be teaching impressionable young children, would we?" she said, in that sickeningly girlish voice. "So, Professor, if you would please answer the question?"

"Ten years." _Technically_ his title had never been taken away, and if the Fuhrer wanted to pretend he had never been imprisoned, who was he to argue?

"And you were a, what did you call them, State Alchemist the entire time?"

"Naturally."

"And why do you suppose that Professor Dumbledore hired you?"

"Vhy don't you ask t'e Fuhrer about that?"

"Excuse me?"

"Dumbledore did not hire me nor Fullmetal personally, he asked Fuhrer Bradley for skilled alchemists to teach dhis class."

"I see." Umbridge scribbled something on her clipboard. "But perhaps you might provide some insight as to why your Fuhrer would have sent a thirteen-year-old child to teach classes."

"Perhaps you should ask Edvard dhat himself." Kimblee was starting to become annoyed. Scratch that, he was starting to become annoyed at the start-of-term feast, now he was getting pissed off.

"I am asking you, Professor."

Kimblee sighed in exasperation. "First, he is sixteen. Second, as I have told you, he is not a child, literally. He became a legal adult t'e moment he accepted his title and commission. And t'ird, t'e only t'ings I could tell you about him are common knowledge, as I have never vorked vit' him before. Now, do you mind? You are distracting my students."

Several heads bent back down over their tests.

"Well, then, I shall be back another date in order to properly inspect your teaching methods." Umbridge made a show of organizing her already meticulous clipboard.

"Professor," said Kimblee as Umbridge made to leave, "Dhere is an Amestrian history book in t'e library dhat I t'ink you vould find most enlightening. Simply a reading suggestion."

* * *

><p><strong><em>AN: _**_I have changed the premise of the upcoming crossover: instead of Ed and Roy anime-based, I'm doing Ed and Ling, because Ling hardly ever shows up in these crossovers and I'm in a Ling mood. I'm still using the language I mentioned last chapter though, but I've expanded the timeframe choices to include books 2 and 3 as well as 4 and 6._

_A couple more hints for wht language it is: 1) google translate won't recognize it, this should narrow things down considerably, and 2) it's the same language that my pen name is in. Also, have a little drinking song, just for giggles: **Buy'ce gal, buy'ce tal/Verbor'ad ures aliit/Mhi draar baat'i meg'parjii'se/Kote lo'shebs'ul narit. **A pint of ale, a pint of blood/Buys men without a name/We never care who wins the war/So you can keep your fame. (Not an exact translation, the last line is closer to "you can stick your fame where the sun doesn't shine")_


End file.
